The next morning, Nocturnum greeted Reyna with its usual duality—sunlight glinting off enchanted glass towers, while below, alleys churned with secrets and smog. She moved through the city like a ghost reborn—untraceable, unkillable, unknown.
For now.
But Reyna knew the clock was ticking.
She tucked the Eidolon Core into a shielded case beneath her coat, its faint pulsing like a second heartbeat against her ribs. Somewhere, someone was tracking her. The Circle didn't forgive traitors, and the moment she activated the Core last night, she had painted herself in blood-red on their radar.
But she wasn't going to run.
She was going to take back control.
The Arcane Underground
She headed toward the underbelly of the city, the Iron Vaults, where spells were traded like currency and secrets held more weight than diamonds. Cloaked in a gray illusion shimmer, she descended into the elevator of a forgotten building where only those with cursed blood or criminal minds dared tread.
The doors opened with a hiss.
Music. Smoke. Hexes tattooed on skin. People with glowing eyes, shifting forms, and whispered vendettas.
And at the far end, sitting on a throne of bone and chrome, was Delilah Hex—an information broker who knew more about the dead than the living.
"Look what the Void dragged back," Delilah purred, exhaling violet smoke. "Dr. Reyna Vale, immortal criminal, or newly resurrected myth?"
"Depends who's asking," Reyna said coolly. "I need information. On the Circle's next move—and whoever's tracking me."
Delilah's smile twisted. "You know how this works. Give a secret, get a secret."
Reyna didn't hesitate. "Lucas Hale isn't dead."
Delilah froze, eyes narrowing. "Impossible. The reports say he vanished in the Arcane Collapse. His soul signature was erased."
"Exactly," Reyna said. "No one just disappears like that—not unless they know how to hide from the System."
Delilah leaned forward, intrigued. "You always did know how to raise the stakes."
She waved a jeweled hand, and a shard of crystal floated from behind her. It glowed with moving images—surveillance footage.
Reyna's breath caught.
Kairo Thorn—the man who had warned her—was on the screen.
Only… not with the Bureau.
He was in a dimly lit hall, kneeling before a robed figure with no face, just a shifting blur of shadow.
"Target has made contact with the Eidolon Core," Kairo said.
The shadow replied in a voice like cracked ice:
"Do not engage yet. Let her believe she's in control. Then take the Core. And end her."
Reyna's mind exploded with fury.
So he had lied. Played her.
Just like Lucas did.
Just like every man in power ever had.
The screen crackled—and the last frame burned itself into Reyna's memory.
Kairo Thorn… holding her photo.
With the words stamped across it in blood-red ink:
TERMINATE. PRIORITY ONE.